


Soap & Costumes

by BoxFullofCats



Series: The Nikai [6]
Category: British Actor RPF, DC Cinematic Universe RPF, Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: AU Ending to an existing fanfic of mine, Cosplaying Dorks, F/M, Fluff, SDCC 2016, Some do it better than others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxFullofCats/pseuds/BoxFullofCats
Summary: I wrote this during SDCC, especially by the video of Henry surprising cast-mates at their signing. A “What If...” AU, or could be considered a possible outcome. There’s a Tom version coming soon too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during SDCC, especially by the video of Henry surprising cast-mates at their signing. A “What If...” AU, or could be considered a possible outcome. There’s a Tom version coming soon too.

 

He stepped out of the bathroom, grinning. Not that you could see it, as it was hiding being a mask. “V for Vicky,” came Henry’s muffled voice.

Vicky was sitting on the bed, wearing a casual cosplay version of Evey Hammond's stripe shirt and khaki outfit from the movie. Except the shirt was near accurate. It helped when your boyfriend knew costume designers and such.

She smiled and shook her head. “Or ‘D for Dork.’ I thought you were going as V?”

He took the mask off and gave her a look of confusion, one eyebrow raised. “Like in actual costume?”

Vicky gestured to her own outfit, her expression clearly said ‘duh!’

“Babe, no. I want to surprise my people, not look like a t - you know I'm going stop before I dig myself a hole and step right in it.”

Her nose scrunched up as she spoke. “Good idea, Cavill.”

Putting the mask down on the coffee table, he held out his arms for her. “C’mere.”

She sigh and stood up, and he was a little surprised when she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. He easily caught her and held her up with his arms around her waist. His hands then skimmed over her bum and grabbed her thighs to bring her legs around his own waist.

“You look lovely, by the way. I like your costume,” he told her sincerely.

“Thank you,” she grinned. Then she buried her face in his neck, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

She loved his smell. Sure, when he wore cologne it was nice. It was never strong or overpowering. His just out of the shower scent was her favorite. The bar of soap he used, Irish Spring or Lever 2000 or whatever he happened to grab at the market, was the best. Sharp and crisp, just that soapy scent she could never explain what it actually smelt like. Truly, this is what men's cologne should be made to smell like. Sandalwood and musk and other “manly” smells were nice. Bottle this scent up and you could make a fortune.

She kissed the side of his jaw, her lips scraping against the stubble that always seemed to be there no matter how recently he shaved. “I am so glad you are built like a brick shit house.”

“I am kind of under contact to be such, but I am happy that you appreciate it.” She wiggled her butt, her signal to be let down. With mild reluctance he complied.

“Ready to go see if our plan will work?”

He picked up the mask with one hand, and grabbed her hand with his other. “It'll work. Remember, New York?” Then they left their room, heading for the convention.


End file.
